


South of Normal

by cadkitten



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Green Lantern - All Media Types, Justice League - All Media Types, Justice League: War
Genre: Aggression, Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, Nicknames, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 12:05:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6374098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I should be used to it by now, but how quick you are on your feet still startles me sometimes, Spooky." And the nickname in combination with just how <i>absurd</i> it seemed that Hal would be even remotely startled by Bruce's presence forced something like a laugh out of Bruce's throat. And hell... it felt <i>good</i>; to remember how to laugh, to remember how to just be Bruce.</p>
            </blockquote>





	South of Normal

**Author's Note:**

> Don't ask, I have no idea ... okay, I do. Spooky was Skully's nickname for Mulder and so I may have identified with it a bit TOO quickly when Hal called Bruce that in Justice League: War. I uh... well, no regrets.   
> Song[s]: "I'm Only Joking" by KONGOS

If there was one place Bruce never thought he'd end up, it was here; standing in the middle of Hal's kitchen. It was small, even by apartment standards, but that didn't bother Bruce in the least. Even with all the room in the Manor, he always preferred the four sturdy walls of the smaller rooms in his home, the press of the energy of the room, the security - no matter how false - of a closed off space that you knew intimately. And he could only assume Hal knew this space just as intimately as Bruce knew his own; could only assume he knew the security of knowing your every out and knowing you could sense anything being even slightly _off_ within a space.

He eased his hip against the Formica counter top, his arms loosely crossing over his abdomen as he watched Hal put the remnants of the meal Bruce had brought with him into the fridge. Things had been crazy for weeks now and Bruce felt like, perhaps, he'd been shipped off to an alternate universe in which he'd been replaced by a more sociable person - a person who _enjoyed_ some of these visits rather than loathed them because they took time away from his case files.

Hal closed the fridge with his hip and held up two cans of beer. "I know you're more of a hard liquor sort of man, but-"

Bruce didn't let him get any further, there in an instant, taking one from his hand and popping the top. He only had it halfway to his mouth before he realized just how _close_ he was and how quickly he'd been willing to put himself right inside of Hal's personal space. And maybe... maybe that set his thoughts back on the scatter-brained path he'd been on for weeks now with this man.

Raising it to his lips, he took a sip, offering the barest hint of a smile before he drew away from him, turning his back and walking toward the combination bedroom and living room area. He settled onto Hal's worn-out sofa, ditched his shoes and curled his toes into the plush of the seat in a way he hadn't let himself in years. The striking thought that Hal brought out the _youth_ in him passed through his mind and he hid his thoughts behind the beer can. The couch dipped and Hal settled beside him, though not close enough to be imposing, but perhaps closer than friends - could he even call them that much yet? - would have sat. 

"I should be used to it by now, but how quick you are on your feet still startles me sometimes, Spooky." And the nickname in combination with just how _absurd_ it seemed that Hal would be even remotely startled by Bruce's presence forced something like a laugh out of Bruce's throat. And hell... it felt _good_ ; to remember how to laugh, to remember how to just be Bruce. Not Bruce Wayne, the billionaire. Not Batman, the phantom of the night. And certainly not Mr. Wayne, CEO and hard-ass. But _Bruce_ \- the boy who once used to know how to smile, the boy who could have grown into a bright-eyed heart-stopper given half a damn chance. 

Tilting his head back, he let it hit the soft material of the couch and closed his eyes. But even at that... this person that Hal brought out was still somehow half-Bat, halfway to who Bruce could have been. And that was insane, to think that this _wasn't_ him somehow. Because it was; it had to be. He wasn't pretending to like being here in Hal's home and he wasn't pretending with the way the smart-ass nickname he'd been given when they'd first met forced a stupid little flutter in his stomach - loathe as he was to admit it. But he'd be damned if he didn't _like_ Hal Jordon and he sure as shit wasn't about to skip up on the chance to feel like this for as long as life would allow him to.

Opening his eyes, he leaned his head back up, finding Hal watching him with a certain utterly naked curiosity, something he didn't mask even knowing Bruce was watching him now. "Say it again." The words were out of him before he could stop them and before he could regret them, he reached back and put his beer can down, easing his feet off the couch, tucking one leg under him and - God help him - tensed in preparation for his next move.

Hal blinked at him for a moment, swallowing loud enough Bruce could _hear_ it. He watched the confusion play over his face, over those beautiful eyes that could have swallowed him whole, and he felt some amount of satisfaction with it. He'd caught him off-guard, caught him in a way Hal hadn't expected, and the heat only rose faster as he watched him flounder. "Which... what... about you being so quick?" 

Bruce let his tongue push lightly at the inside of his lower lip, a little smirk sliding over his lips - this one utterly on purpose - and he watched the heat flare in Hal's eyes. He could have celebrated, clapped himself on the back for reading Hal so entirely well, but he had a mission here and one he intended to execute flawlessly. With just the same push of speed and skill as he'd given before, he eased himself astride Hal's lap, plucking his beer from his hands, finishing it off and pitching the can somewhere behind him, hearing the clang of it against something. "The other part." These words he breathed out - nearly purred out - and he watched Hal's breath hitch, watched his eyes widen just a fraction and then there were hands on his hips, sliding around to his ass and _squeezing_.

"Spooky." It was fragile this time, nearly whispered, but Bruce let Hal see what it did to him this time. He let him see the flare of his nostrils, let him read the look in his eyes that told of lust and some fragile desperation to cling to this feeling for as long as he could. Dipping his head, Bruce caught Hal's lips with his own, tongue slicking gently over the seam, breathing out a sigh when he was permitted entrance, groaning when their tongues began their slick slide against one another. Hal's hands didn't leave his ass, didn't seem prepared to do anything but cling to Bruce for the time being - and hell, Bruce couldn't _blame_ him. Not in the least. 

His own hands slid over Hal's shoulders, massaging lightly as he moved, earning a broken little groan that he swallowed down with an eagerness he honestly hadn't expected of himself in this situation. He hadn't intended to _want_ Hal like this; hadn't predicted that he'd end up like this tonight - or any night. But these things Hal made him feel - the way he felt like he was a man he could have been - it left him with little choice but to follow the easy flow of progression.

Ghosting his hands down Hal's chest and torso, he grasped the edge of his shirt and lifted, easing it back up with his palms pressed flat to Hal's skin as he moved upward. He cast the shirt somewhere behind the couch, having eased up from the kiss to let it happen, and he took the chance to simply hold the back of the couch and stare down at his prize, at the way Hal looked almost _broken_ he was so shocked by the turn of events. And he _smiled_ \- he smiled like he hadn't in years and it felt like everything he'd ever needed. It was crazy and it was, perhaps, rash, but he wasn't about to let go of this feeling growing inside of him. "Again," he breathed out, their eyes locking as he gave a small roll of his hips, _feeling_ how Hal was responding to this and knowing he wasn't even remotely off-base here.

Hal's hands moved then - finally, blessedly shifting up to unfasten the buttons of his shirt. And Bruce gave him a bit of help with the whole ordeal, unfastening the buttons on the cuffs and then reaching down and easily removing his belt. He watched the heat rise in Hal's gaze and he _felt_ the strain of his cock against his backside as he shifted himself to let the belt fall to the floor behind him. His shirt followed moments later and only then did Hal whisper out, "I'll call you Spooky as many times as you want. Just I swear, if you leave halfway through this-"

Bruce cut him off with a sharp hand in his hair, tugging his head back to expose his throat, giving his Adam's apple a small lick before he breathed out a laugh against his skin. His fingers curled and he dragged his nails downward, over Hal's nipples, down his chest... down... down... until he found the fly of his pants and deft fingers began to open his pants. "No threats necessary, Fly Boy." Hal's groan told him what he needed to know as he dragged his zipper down, lifting up just enough to yank Hal's pants down to mid-thigh, his underwear coming with it. 

It was only then that Hal kicked into gear, his hands seeming everywhere on Bruce at once and - for a moment - he could have sworn Hal had his own little version of super speed with how quickly he had Bruce's pants open and his hand around his dick. Bruce bucked into his hand, pushed his hips forward and settled there, watching Hal's hand move quick over his length, watching how gloriously beautiful it was to have another man's hand around him like this. As much as he liked his ladies, Bruce had always been a sucker for how _raw_ it was with a man. The firm grip just the right pressure, the slightly calloused hand giving just enough drag - and bless how he ached, how his entire being _desired_ right then.

He slid a small leather pouch from his pocket, tossing it on the couch and shoving his pants down his hips to pool at his knees, and he thanked everything in him that he could still move like he was twenty, that he could still manage not to get off the couch and yet ditch his pants onto the floor right along with the rest of his clothing. Settling right down against Hal's cock, he started a slow grind against his length, feeling it slide past his entrance again and again, lighting his nerves on fire. He hadn't craved this in years, the feeling of someone inside of him, but he knew that after this, he'd dream about it for a _very_ long time to come.

Hal's hand left him and Bruce allowed himself the time to lean into his warmth and to bring up the slow grind to something a little more eager. His cock brushed Hal's stomach with each movement now and he let his guard finally fully drop, allowed himself to close his eyes and just _feel_. 

Slick fingers pressed against his entrance the next time he rocked his hips and his breath caught. And God help him if he didn't simply cant his hips back and wait to be penetrated. He rested his arms on the back of the sofa, one hand in the small hairs at the back of Hal's neck, holding on for good measure, his last assertion of control over the situation for the moment. The pressure increased and then Hal's fingers were inside of him, slowly sliding in and out, adding to the burning fire already in his gut. His cock twitched against Hal's stomach and he let out a shaky breath of pleasure, a shudder going through him. 

It wasn't long before Hal's fingers disappeared and he could hear the sound of the condom being opened. Moments ticked by and then his hips were being guided - and he simply let it happen, knowing this was the part he wanted the _least_ control over. The actual penetration had always felt better without his direction, without his knowledge on when exactly it would happen. And _oh_ how he wanted to fall apart in Hal's arms, shaking and spilling himself all over his sweet Lantern.

He could feel the press of the blunt head of Hal's cock against him, feel the way it threatened to push it - but didn't. He shifted just enough to hold onto Hal's shoulders, fingers digging in as he hissed out, "Do it."

The rumble of a laugh caught him off guard and he looked down, finding Hal's bright eyes watching him, filled with pleasure and a spark of pure _defiance_. "Do what, Spooky?"

Bruce groaned before he could even help himself; groaned because it was a bad place to be in and groaned because he _liked_ it. His fingers tightened and his hips rocked lightly against Hal's cock, debating if he'd just do this himself or if he'd capitulate this little bit. But he _knew_ the feeling of being unprepared for entrance and he liked it far too much to give it up. And just like that, he stared right into Hal's eyes and whispered out, "Fuck me."

Penetration was abrupt - instantaneous - and Bruce actually gasped out of the shock of being filled so completely, so _quickly_. His fingers curled again and he dragged them hard down Hal's chest, letting out something closer to a growl than a groan as they began to move, utterly in tandem, and completely in desperation. There was nothing held back, not anymore. Bruce fucked himself down on Hal's cock hard enough to nearly hurt and his hands alternated between gripping Hal so tightly it'd probably bruise and raking his nails over any part of his skin he could reach. And Hal... Hal had ahold of his cock within seconds of them starting, his hand gripping tighter than before, his movement a blur over Bruce's length. 

The old sofa protested faintly under the power of their thrusts, under the strain of their union. Their lips met again and this time Bruce _invaded_ his mouth, all tongue and teeth and raw aggression. His mouth claimed and his hands left behind evidence of where he'd been, what he'd done with this _pretty_ man under him. His hips jerked and he began a steady forward movement with each time he pushed back down on Hal's cock. Again and again until he finally got what he was looking for and his fingers nearly cramped from how hard he clutched Hal. His muscles strained and his balls _ached_ and nothing in the world could have stopped him right then from obtaining the inevitable. 

Panting, he thrust his tongue into Hal's mouth again and it was sloppy... wet and he could feel he smear of saliva far beyond the bounds of their mouths. The hand on his dick began a steady tug, the grip powerful, and he could _feel_ his orgasm coiling, could feel the way it hardened his cock just the smallest extra amount, the way his balls drew up tight against him, and the way his muscles quivered with it. One more forceful rock against Hal's cock and Bruce threw back his head, arching and trembling as Hal took over, thrusting up crazy and fast into him, his fist giving a few more hard tugs of Bruce's cock - and then there it was. Heat flashed through him and air abandoned him and, quivering, Bruce started to cum.

Hal's hands were on his hips and the thrust of his cock was more insistent, quicker. And when Bruce could see again, he focused on the pleasure on Hal's face, the way he looked like he was already beyond blissed out, and he reached out, one hand trailing down from his jaw to his bared throat.... and his hand closed around it. He didn't squeeze, just rested it there, watching the ramp up of the thrill going through Hal's body, watching the way he panted for breath _as if_ Bruce were actually squeezing. And he smiled, this time something far more sultry as he clenched around Hal's cock and actually pushed his hand against his throat just the slightest.

That was all it took before Hal was falling apart beneath him, his thrusts half aborted, his breath sharp and harsh on the air, and the throb of his cock as he filled the barrier between them with his own release.

Bruce rocked his hips a few times as Hal melted down against the couch before he eased himself off of him, turning and settling beside him, leaning half against him as he let the buzz of good sex settle in. He wet his lips and breathed out a little chuckle. "What was it you said when we first met?"

He could feel Hal's laugh more than hear it and the smile was evident in his voice when he spoke. "I think I said: you're pretty south of normal, Spooky. You know that, right?"

Bruce rested one arm on the back of the couch, sliding his feet up onto the sofa again and closing his eyes as he hummed out a quiet agreement. "Oh... I'm pretty sure you like my version of 'south of normal', Fly Boy." And he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that there'd never be an argument over that again.


End file.
